


A Taste For It

by jj_minerva



Category: The Professionals
Genre: First Time, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-08-07
Updated: 2009-08-07
Packaged: 2017-10-02 11:23:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 19,352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jj_minerva/pseuds/jj_minerva
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Secrets are uncovered during a not so routine operation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Taste For It

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks must go to the wonderful Jaycat92 for her proof reading and beta reading and encouragement and suggestions. I fear this story would never have been finished without her help and support. Thank you.

A Taste For It

Part 1

It was supposed to be a simple undercover operation; at least that was how Cowley sold it to them. It was only when they came to the fine print that the trouble started.

The brief had come directly from the Minister. A suspected blackmailing racket that preyed on prominent men with sexual secrets was nothing unusual. But when a young homosexual named Martin Foley, who had shadowy connections to a distant member of the Royal family had turned up dead in the Thames there was an all out push to find whoever was responsible. MI5 had had the victim under surveillance for some time owing to his 'friendship' with the nameless Royal but they had lost track of him in the week before his murder. One of the last men he was seen with was Brian Rickman, an apparently respectable businessman and known homosexual who admitted to picking up Foley in a club for a one night stand but claimed he had not seen him since. A quick check of Rickman's background revealed that he was the recipient of several lucrative government contracts. No irregularities were found, but the coincidences were starting to mount up.

"MI5 has made a mess of this already so the PM wants us to handle it. It looks like this man Rickman may be gathering dirt through his own liaisons with the men he picks up." Cowley pushed a file containing a grainy black and white photo of Rickman across the desk towards his two best agents. The photo showed a man of middle age, well dressed with a slim athletic build.

"Isn't he worried about his own reputation, sir?" Doyle asked studying the photo before handing it to his partner.

"He makes no secret of what he is, Doyle, so he has nothing to hide. And that in itself is a little odd. Despite his less than orthodox lifestyle, his catering business is doing very well, especially with regard to those government contracts."

"So you think he is blackmailing people to get the contracts," Bodie said, stating the obvious. Cowley didn't bother to reply.

"We suspect that Rickman picked up Foley, found out who he knew and then tried to recruit him for his blackmail scheme. To his credit, it appears the lad didn't cooperate. Rickman determined he wasn't useful and disposed of him in due course."

"I hope his royal-namelessness appreciated the gesture," Bodie declared with a sneer. "Probably didn't even know Foley's name."

"That's enough, Bodie. That's not our concern. Foley is not the first young man to be fished out of the Thames either. Over the past twelve months five young homosexuals have been found supposedly drowned, however there were enough doubts for the coroner to leave open verdicts on their deaths. All of them could be linked back to men in important government positions. Whilst no one has admitted to anything, least of all to knowing the victims, it is possible that these men are being blackmailed."

Cowley leaned forward, hands clasped together, eyes aglow, intent on the operation he was planning, "What we have to do is get a man on the inside. Someone with secrets to sell, who will find a way into Rickman's confidences, work with him and trick him into showing his hand." Cowley gazed from one man to the next before continuing, "I want you, Doyle, to go undercover. Frequent the places Rickman picks up these fellows. Talk to people, drop a few hints that you have been with prominent men and wait for Rickman to take the bait. If he does, then play along."

"And by 'play along,'" Doyle said looking anything but pleased, "you mean let him pick me up and have his way with me? Is that it?" He shook his head, unable to believe that even George Cowley would have the audacity to ask such a thing of his agents.

"Oh don't stand there looking like a blushing virgin, 4.5." Cowley threw back. "This is an important assignment and you're the obvious choice."

Doyle looked away and ran one hand through his curls. "Honestly, sir, I don't think I can do this. I've never …., I mean… I've never even thought about another man that way!"

"Look laddie, I know this won't be easy," Cowley changed tactics. "But we need someone undercover and you are the most suitable."

"But why me? Why should I be the one to do it?"

"Well look at yourself Doyle!" Cowley gestured. "Your hair, the way you dress …"

"Those boots, that pose…," Bodie added under his breath.

Doyle glared at his partner. "Oh thanks a lot mate. You're really helping!"

"That'll do, that'll do. I don't think you two are taking this seriously. You're going undercover, Doyle, that's all there is to it." Cowley surged to his feet, a challenge in his eyes. "When you joined CI5 you signed yourself, body and soul, over to me. This particular assignment calls for both."

"There's no way in hell that I am doing this…sir," Doyle declared, voice rising. "I'll resign before I let some bloke…"

"Now really 4.5, there's no need to make threats. It's a simple assignment."

"Simple? If it's so bloody simple then you do it!" Doyle shouted back.

"That's enough of your insubordination, Doyle, you'll find yourself out on your ear before you have a chance to resign," Cowley declared with a vengeance.

As Cowley and Doyle faced off across the desk, Bodie cleared his throat. "Ah, sir," he interrupted, no trace of jocularity in his voice now. "I'll do it."

Two sets of astounded eyes turned towards Bodie.

"You, Bodie?" Cowley asked unable to hide his astonishment.

"Yeah me. I've … had some experience. I'd be able to make it believable." He glanced at his partner, "Well, more believable than Doyle here."

Cowley stared for a moment as the words sunk in. "I knew I hired you for a reason Bodie. I just never thought it would be that one. All right. You take the undercover work. Doyle will be your back up. Read through the file, get a plan in place and see me tomorrow morning. I want you to start as soon as possible." He looked from one man to the other, on the verge of saying more, but he dropped his eyes, dismissing them. "Go on then, you've wasted enough of my time."

Once outside, Cowley's door safely shut, Raymond Doyle confronted his partner. "You've had some experience?" he asked, incredulous. "Bloody hell, Bodie. I never would have thought that of you."

"Come on Doyle, you know I ran away to sea at fourteen. What do you think sailors do for all those long months away from port?" Bodie grinned and finished off the flippant reply with a wink.

"But not you!" Doyle said, his anger over Cowley's request escalating with this new shock of Bodie's disclosure. The rational part of his mind struggled with the revelation, looking for explanations, unable to accept what his friend had admitted. "You would have been just a kid back then! Were you forced? Is that it?"

Bodie didn't look at him for a moment, just stared down the corridor "Nah, I was old enough and I wasn't forced, not really. I was pretty drunk the first couple of times, otherwise I probably would have said no." The blue eyes swung round and fixed Doyle with a steady gaze. "But after that I got a taste for it." The grin was back, impenetrable as any armour.

"A taste for it?" Doyle spat. "Bloody hell!" he cursed and turned away, walking quickly down the hallway. He needed fresh air and to put some distance between himself and Bodie before he said something he'd regret. Not only was he still reeling from Cowley's request but now Bodie…Bodie. Doyle took a deep breath and strode out the door.

Bodie queer…who'd ever imagine? Bodie, who chased birds like a hungry cat. Who ogled them, chatted them up and bedded them like it was a national sport. And now he says he queer! Doyle ran his hands through his hair and waited for lightening to strike.

Was this some sort of practical joke that Cowley and Bodie had cooked up between them? Were they standing in a window even now, laughing at him. Doyle scanned the building, knowing it was no joke but wishing it was. Cowley didn't make jokes and Bodie, well if he was queer he'd kept it quiet, that much was certain. Never flaunted it, never made Doyle feel uncomfortable. They were mates, good mates, and something like this shouldn't change that. Should it? Doyle shook his head, wishing Bodie had never said anything. But then he, Doyle, would be the one going undercover and that was not something he wanted to think about. No Bodie had saved his arse yet again, quite literally this time, by volunteering and exposing his own dirty little secret. What more could you ask from a partner? He had no right to judge Bodie, but it was still a shock. Damn Cowley for putting them in this position.

Doyle spun on his heel and walked back.

 

Part 2

Doyle found Bodie in the rest room making a cup of tea. Blue eyes looked up, registered who had entered and looked down again.

No more than I deserve, Doyle told himself.

"Look, I'm sorry about before. It was a shock, that's all."

"What? Finding out that I like to take it up the arse?" Bodie threw back, ignoring Doyle's attempt at reconciliation.

"Bodie, don't," Doyle said quietly. "I'm sorry, all right?"

Bodie shrugged, letting go of his anger. "Yeah, me too. Didn't mean to throw it in your face. I never meant for you to find out, mate."

"Never would have guessed, you know. I mean …, all those birds you date."

"I like birds. No surprise there. Like blokes too but that's not something you go around declaring. Haven't done it with another bloke for a long time. Safer that way."

"Well anyway, thanks for…you know…doing it, instead of me."

"No problem, sunshine. I could see you wouldn't be able to go through with it and I wouldn't want you to resign. Best partner I ever had."

"Thanks. I owe you one."

Bodie raised his eyebrows, on the verge of making a smart reply, but settled for, "Cup of tea, then?"

"Ta."

"Glad you came back," Bodie began as he fiddled with tea bags and water. "I thought I was stranded here when you took off. You drove today, remember."

"Sorry. Just needed a bit of space to think, that's all. Needed to get my head around it."

"Yeah well don't think too much, you'll give yourself a head-ache."

But Doyle couldn't help thinking. Cowley had opened a Pandora's box and there was no way to get all the trouble and strife back inside.

"Come on," Bodie said when Doyle finished his tea. He picked up the discarded file. "Let's go home. There are things I need to do to get ready and it's late enough to sign out. We can go over the file in the car."

"Yeah, Okay," Doyle replied grateful Bodie seemed to have forgiven him.

On the way home they discussed the best place to lay the bait for Rickman and decided on a club he seemed to favour. Bodie seemed relaxed with the operation but Doyle had a thousand unasked questions, not about the case but about Bodie. Finally his curiosity got the better of him.

"So you said it's been a while?" Doyle asked as the Capri followed the flow of traffic. "How long is a while?"

He could tell Bodie was watching him, half turned in his seat, lazing against the car door. "Not since I've been back in England."

"Not since you were a merc, then? Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why haven't you…you know…done it since then?"

"Too dangerous. Get kicked out of the Army for that sort of thing. Don't think Cowley would stand for it either. I like this job; didn't want to jeopardise that." Bodie settled back into his seat. "Back in Africa it was different. Out in the bush for months at a time, few women, not even whores. You turned to your mates to get off when you needed to. No one had a problem with it."

"So you like it then?"

"Course I do, told you that."

"Did you …have someone back then?"

"Have someone?" Bodie laughed and it sounded like a giggle. "You mean like a boyfriend? No, no one regular, if that's what you're asking."

Doyle shook his head, unsurprised. "Of course not. You don't do commitment, do you?" Doyle couldn't help the sarcasm that clouded his words. Why should Bodie be any different with men from how he was with women?

They pulled up in front of Bodie's flat. Not wanting to leave their conversation on a sour note Doyle turned to look at his friend. "So, you said you had to get some stuff ready. Anything I can help you with?"

Bodie's lips twisted into a grin as he considered the offer. "Probably not, unless you want to fuck me?"

"Damn you Bodie," Doyle clenched his fists, resisting the urge to wipe the smile off Bodie's face with his knuckles. "That's not funny." Was Bodie deliberately trying to push him away?

"Not meant to be, mate. I'm dead serious. I'm supposed to have been playing the field and anyone who picks me up is going to find out pretty quickly that I haven't been doing it recently. Besides, I don't want to get hurt if this guy Rickman is not the sort to worry too much about his partner's comfort. I need to find someone who will go easy with me and take his time."

"Well I'm not doing it! That's just…"

Bodie got out of the car. "Yeah, thought you'd say that." He shoved his hands in his pockets. "See you tomorrow." He turned his back and walked away.

"Fuck!" Doyle murmured under his breath as he started the car and put it into gear. There was no reason for him to feel guilty; to feel like he had let his partner down. Surely Bodie didn't really expect him to do that? After all, he wasn't even queer.

No, Bodie hadn't been serious. He was just winding him up. Doyle shook his head, changing lanes with a swerve. Bodie would be all right, he knew what he was doing. But the gears in Doyle's head were shifting in time with those of the Capri. What would Bodie do? Go off and find someone to do it for him? Doyle hit the breaks narrowly missing the tail end of the car in front as it came to sudden stop. He took a deep breath and ran his hand through his hair.

As the traffic started moving again, Doyle pulled over. Would Bodie really go out and pick up someone? He'd seen his friend do that with woman many times, a one night stand, no questions asked. But men? Doyle's thoughts slipped back to his days at the Met. He'd collared his far share of men doing stuff in back lanes and public toilets. He knew what went on and where it went on and the thought of Bodie doing that with some bloke he picked up…

"Bloody hell." Doyle started the car, waited for a break in the traffic then spun the steering wheel, tyres screeching and did a u-turn. No, he couldn't let Bodie go trawling the streets. Not only was it dangerous, it could also put their op at risk. If something happened to Bodie, if he was arrested or hurt, or worse, then Cowley would not be pleased and Doyle would find himself back in the hot seat.

"Ah Bodie, the things I do for you." He'd have to try, have to give it a go. No doubt Bodie could tell him what to do. Probably have a great laugh about it afterwards too, would Bodie. Smart bastard, or should that be bugger?

Doyle pulled up in front of Bodie's flat again cursing his own stupidity. He was going to regret this.

 

Part 3

Bodie had already changed and looked ready to head out when he answered the door. "What now Doyle?"

"You going out then?" Doyle took in the smart trousers and shirt that was opened halfway down Bodie's chest and knew the question was superfluous. Bodie didn't bother to answer.

"Look, I was thinking about what you said," Doyle began as he pushed past into the sitting room. "And I think I was wrong."

"What are you on about?"

"What you asked me to do. Bodie," He took a deep breath. "I'll do it."

"You?" Bodie stared, eyes wide. "You'll do it? You can't even say it Doyle, can you?"

"Yes I can. I'll do it…do you…fuck you. But you'll have to tell me how, because Jesus, Bodie, I've no bloody idea." Doyle flopped down on the couch. "Wouldn't mind a beer, if you have one?"

Bodie shook his head but went to the kitchen and returned with two beers. "So what changed your mind? You didn't seem keen when you left."

"It was a shock, that's all." How many times could he use that excuse? "Not something I'd ever considered doing before." Doyle took a long drink of his beer. "But, we're partners aren't we? And we're in this together, and if I was the one who had to do it and I asked you to give me a hand, then you'd do it – wouldn't you?"

"Oh yeah, I'd help you mate." Bodie sounded almost eager.

Doyle frowned and looked away. "Well the least I can do is the same for you." He took another mouthful of beer, suddenly wishing he'd asked for something stronger. "Besides, Cowley will have our heads if we stuff this up and you'd be inviting trouble going out prowling dressed up like that."

Bodie looked down at his attire. "You think so?"

"Too right mate. No telling what would happen to you. When I was with the Met…"

"Yeah, yeah, Doyle, heard it all before." Bodie paused, suddenly looking uncomfortable. "So, you want some dinner first? I'll shout Chinese."

"Yeah, that would be nice," Doyle decided, surprised but pleased that Bodie was putting off the inevitable. Perhaps they could pretend that this was just a normal evening.

But the awkwardness continued through dinner and the washing up. Doyle stuttered through stilted conversation as they searched for safe topics deliberately ignoring what they were both thinking about. By the time they were sitting watching the telly Doyle could almost feel the heat radiating off Bodie's thigh where it rested beside his own. They'd sat like this, side by side on the couch, countless time before and it had never bothered him. Now he jumped slightly when Bodie nudged his knee with his own.

"You want another beer?" Bodie asked.

"Not if you want me in working order, mate." They'd been drinking steadily all evening. Perhaps Bodie was looking for courage too.

"You still up for it then?" Bodie asked, glancing sideways. "Thought you might have got cold feet."

"No, I said I'd do it."

"All right then," Bodie smiled and ran his hand up Doyle's thigh, moving closer, lips parted.

"What are you doing?" Doyle asked, pulling back.

"I was going to kiss you." The words were soft, seductive.

"Why?" Doyle asked.

"It's called foreplay, Doyle. You know? I'm sure you've done it with birds."

"I know what it's called, Bodie, but I'm not some bird you have to seduce. Men don't kiss each other."

"They do, you know."

"Well I don't. I'm not queer and I'm not kissing you."

"Suit yourself." Bodie looked away and Doyle wondered if there was a faint trace of disappointment in the dark blue eyes. "I was just trying to make it nice for you," Bodie continued as he stood up, voice serious again. "Come on then. Let's get down to business." And he led the way into the bedroom.

Doyle followed, making a conscious effort not to look at Bodie's backside. He'd see more of it than he ever wanted to very shortly and despite his words to Bodie, he wasn't at all sure he was ready to do that.

Bodie headed to the bathroom. "You get undressed and into bed. Give me a minute to get ready."

"Yeah," Doyle muttered under his breath as he shed his clothes. "Easy for you to say – get undressed and into bed – wonder how many times you've used that line on women in here?" He left his clothes where they fell and climbed under the covers. How was he ever going to do this? He wasn't the least bit aroused and thoughts of whatever Bodie was doing in the bathroom were not helping. Think of women…that ought to help, Doyle told himself. Bodie would probably have some porn around here too. Doyle checked the bedside table drawer first then leaned over and felt under the bed, his fingers quickly finding what he was looking for. With a sigh of relief he leaned back on the pillows and flicked through the well thumbed pages. He smiled to himself when he thought about Bodie doing the same until a new thought intruded – did Bodie have other types of porn? Things with men doing …stuff…to each other? Perhaps he should be looking at something like that, if only to get some pointers on what he had to do? He leaned over again and rummaged around under the bed with one hand, pulling out several magazines all of which contained women. "Shit," he muttered and leaned over further. Bodie must have something under here.

"What on earth are you doing?" Bodie asked as he entered the room, dressed only in his robe. Doyle jumped back and pulled the covers well over his lap, blushing when he realised Bodie had just had a very nice view of his arse. No wonder he was grinning.

Doyle frowned and held up the magazine he had been looking at. "Trying to get in the mood. Thought this might help."

That wiped the smile off Bodie's face. "Light on or off?" he asked, all business like again.

"Off…no…on…I'll need to see what I am doing…I think…"

"I'll put the lamp on," Bodie replied curtly. "That should be enough." He dropped the robe and slide into bed, turning towards Doyle. "Nervous?"

"No."

"Liar."

"No, I'm ready."

"Don't even have it up, do you?"

"Not yet, but you're not helping. Give me a moment to look at this again."

Bodie moved closer and leaned over. "That's a good issue that one. Try page 6."

Doyle flipped the pages and turned the magazine sideways. "Like her do you?"

"Don't you?" Bodie asked, rolling onto his side and looking at the page too.

"Bit too full figured for my taste. I like them a bit leaner. She'd give you a black eye with those knockers."

Bodie snorted. "A challenge is what she would be mate," he declared. "You'd need to tame her first."

The banter went on, about birds and boobs and banging and Doyle felt the familiar fire of arousal start low in his groin. Surreptitiously he slipped one hand down under the sheet to stroke himself hoping to hell that Bodie wouldn't notice. If he did he didn't comment but a few minutes later asked, "Do you want to try it now?"

"Yeah," replied Doyle a little breathlessly.

Bodie handed him a jar of Vaseline. "You ever done it like this with a bird?"

"No, course not. Why would I do something like that?"

Bodie shook his head. "Don't worry. Look, I've done the hard work for you, but you'll need to put some of that on yourself, first. And don't scrimp with it. I'll need it." Then Bodie pulled the covers down and rolled over, head resting on folded arms, arse up in the air. Doyle just stared.

"Take it easy, now." Bodie said softly as Doyle moved to kneel behind him.

I can't do this, Doyle thought to himself as he stared at Bodie's bum and as he fumbled to get the lid off the jar of Vaseline. He could feel his erection wilting already.

Bodie turned his head to look back at him. "What are you waiting for Doyle?"

Doyle swallowed and gave softening cock a few strokes. "Just give me a minute, Bodie. This isn't working. I need to look at that magazine again."

He retrieved the magazine from the bed only to find it plucked from his fingers.

"I have a better idea," Bodie said rolling over and tumbling Doyle onto his back. He swooped down, claiming Doyle's cock with his lips.

"Bodie?" The strangled cry was all Doyle could utter before he closed his eyes and gave himself up to the feeling. His experiences with women had not prepared him for Bodie's skills in this field. One remote corner of his brain told him that it shouldn't be surprising, after all men should have a much better idea of what to do with a cock because they had one and they knew what felt good. But, oh, Bodie didn't seem out of practice with this at all because there was nothing hesitant or clumsy about the way he went about it and he certainly knew how to blow a bloke. Doyle opened his eyes just to prove to himself that it really was his partner who had his cock halfway down his throat. But the sight of Bodie's dark head bent over his groin was more than he could take. Doyle gasped and came hard.

"Doyle! What did you do that for?" Bodie sat up and cursed. "You're supposed to be fucking me!" He didn't sound happy.

"Sorry, couldn't help it." Doyle lay there, pulse hammering, body tingling. "You took me by surprise." He turned slightly and opened his eyes to find Bodie on his back next to him, staring at the ceiling. "You're very good at that," he added hoping to appease the angry look on his partner's face.

It worked. Bodie grinned. "Thanks, been told that before, you know." He turned to face Doyle. "How soon can you get it up again?"

Doyle closed his eyes and ran a hand through his curls. "Christ, Bodie, give a man time to catch his breath."

"Well just don't go to sleep." Bodie swung out of bed, not bothering with the robe this time. "I'll give you ten minutes," he said leaving the room.

Doyle closed his eyes again, content to doze for whatever time Bodie allowed. If Bodie wanted him to get it up again then he could damn well let him rest first. He hovered on the edge of sleep, sated enough not to worry about what Bodie had just done or what it might mean. No point spoiling the moment; there'd be plenty of time for that tomorrow. He was aware of the bed dipping beside him as Bodie got back in but didn't open his eyes.

"Ray," Bodie whispered, but he was too close to sleep to reply.

 

Part 4

Bodie must have let him sleep after all because it was an hour later when Doyle finally awoke to Bodie shaking his arm.

"What?" Doyle slurred as Bodie's face on the pillow beside him slowly came into focus.

"Listen, if this is going to be too hard for you, I can go out and find someone," Bodie said in earnest before rolling onto his back and stared at the ceiling. "Don't feel you have to do it if …it's distasteful to you."

Doyle rolled onto his back too pushing his tangled curls off his face. He could hear the disappointment in Bodie's voice. "No, it's all right. Let's try again." Perhaps it wouldn't be as bad as he thought. The blow job had been pretty spectacular so perhaps this would be pleasantly surprising too.

Bodie turned back to face him and smiled. "You're a good mate, Ray. Thanks."

"Yeah, well don't thank me too soon, I haven't done it yet." But Doyle looked at the smile on Bodie's lips, thought about what that mouth had done before and found himself getting hard already. He'd really like to feel Bodie's mouth on him one more time but didn't think he should ask. He suddenly wondered what Bodie was getting out of this.

"So, do you get off on it? Get off on getting fucked?" Doyle hoped he wasn't blushing but he really wanted to know.

Bodie gave him his best leer. "That really depends on you, sunshine."

"Oh thanks, as if I didn't have enough pressure on me already." Bodie tossed him the Vaseline in reply.

Doyle looked at it and then back to Bodie. "You going to help me get ready again?" he asked hopefully. Bodie blinked and reached for the jar.

"No, not like that," Doyle said looking at Bodie's lips. "Like you did before."

"Enjoyed that did you?" Bodie replied with a smirk. "Well, only if you promise not to come. Never thought you'd have such a short fuse, Doyle."

"I don't, normally," Doyle defended. "It was your fault."

"Sorry for being so talented." Bodie flicked the covers back leaving them both naked. "Doesn't look like you'll need it this time." He indicated towards Doyle's cock, which seemed to have developed a mind of its own. "How about I just rub some of this on?"

"Yeah, ok." Doyle lay back and closed his eyes, not sure how he felt about Bodie touching him. A blow job was one thing, but a hand on his cock was something else. Bodie kept his touch light, no more than sticky fingers and quick swipes. Doyle wondered what it would feel like for Bodie to take a hold of him properly, to feel the firm grip of his strong hand, the rub of gun calluses…

"Okay, that's enough I think." Bodie let go and Doyle was left panting.

They repositioned themselves, Bodie on his knees, head down cradled in his folded arms, arse up waiting while Doyle lined himself up, inched closer, cock poised.

"Ray, listen…," Bodie's voice was little more than a whisper. "You can't just stick it in. You're going to have to … use your fingers a bit first. Understand."

"Yeah, I know what you mean." It was obvious now that he was here looking at his target. It wasn't going to open up on its own. Doyle hunted around for the jar of Vaseline, stuck his fingers in, closed his eyes and reached out.

Bodie gave a breathy little gasp as his body was breached and Doyle could feel him tremble. This was harder than he had imagined and much tighter. "How will I know when you're ready?" Doyle asked. Bodie took a moment to answer and when he did his voice was strained. "I'll tell you. Need a bit yet more, it's been a long time." Doyle fumbled around a bit more, hoping it wasn't going to take too long. He didn't want to risk losing his erection again.

"Okay, try it now," Bodie finally said although his voice was still strained.

Thank God, Doyle thought, as he lined up his cock and pushed. Bodie made a strangled sound. "Slower!" he gasped through gritted teeth and then, "Wait!" Bodie's whole body was radiating tension. Doyle stopped, realising there was a problem.

And suddenly it struck Doyle how vulnerable Bodie was. Head down, face hidden, the very image of subjugation, trusting his body to someone completely untrained in this field. Someone who had no idea what he should be doing. Bodie was taking deep breaths now, trying to relax, but his body was so tight it was almost painful for Doyle.

God, it hadn't been this awkward since he was a teenager. Doyle was transported back to his youth and the first time he'd been with a girl. They'd both been virgins and although he'd been rearing to go his partner was not so ready. She'd been nervous and unsure and it had taken him ages to get her to relax. They'd made out for hours before she was ready.

Was that why Bodie had suggested foreplay? Was it not just for Doyle's benefit but for his own as well? How hard must it be to lie there and wait for someone to stick their cock up your arse? And it didn't matter that they were mates, didn't matter that they were friends. Doyle hadn't really wanted to do it and had no interest in men and Bodie knew that; knew Doyle was only doing it under sufferance. He'd tried to make it nice and Doyle had thrown it in his face.

"Okay Bodie, it's all right. Try to relax." Doyle ran one hand up and down Bodie's back, soothing, wishing he had done this before. He would never have treated any of the women he dated that way. How could have been so careless towards his friend?

Doyle let the fingers of his other hand wander to Bodie's thigh, massaging up and down. He encountered the flaccid penis, proof that Bodie was taking no pleasure in this at all.

"I'm sorry, Bodie. Do you want me to stop?"

"No, just give me a moment. Don't pull out. I'll be fine in a minute."

Doyle continued his stroking, moving one hand to Bodie's groin, then to his stomach while the other caressed along his side. True to his word, Bodie began to relax. Mind over matter, Doyle wondered, or sheer discipline? He felt the give, pressed home his advantage and suddenly found himself balls deep in the warm tightness of his partner's body.

"Oh," Doyle gasped, as he began to move, found rhythm and then beat. Not like with a woman…not at all. This was something wilder, something raw and primal, something taboo. Bodie was moving with him now, pushing back, joining the dance. He was hard too; Doyle could feel his erection hit against his hand where it still rested on Bodie's stomach. That fact alone sent shivers through Doyle, caused the fires in his groin to leap and dance. He could smell the musk of their sweat and sex, feel the heat of Bodie's skin against his own, hear their harsh breathing, the slap of flesh against flesh, the squeaking of the bed frame and Bodie's strangled little whisper as he came,

"Oh Ray!"

It was that which sent Doyle over the edge in a rush of heat, an orgasm so powerful that he thought he might have passed out for a moment. He came to his senses, sprawled across Bodie's back, both of them face down on the mattress, breathing hard, sweaty and sticky. He rolled off quickly, aware of the little gasp of pain from Bodie when their bodies disengaged.

"Sorry," Doyle whispered, lying on his back, eyes closed trying not to think about what they had just done and how mind blowing…earth shattering…life changing?...it had been. He could feel Bodie roll closer, feel his breath against his skin.

"No need to be sorry. That was…wow"

Doyle rolled onto his side and looked into his partner's eyes. Everything was there for him to read; friendship, respect…and love.

Oh shit, Doyle thought to himself. What he said was, "I'm not queer, Bodie."

The shutters closed. "Yeah, I know mate." Bodie replied, grin plastered back in place. "Never thought you were. But thanks for …you know…helping out. Hope it wasn't too much of a hardship."

"No, glad to give a hand."

Bodie pulled away and slid out of bed. Doyle sat up to do likewise.

"You don't have to go, do you? You can stay if you like," Bodie said over his shoulder.

"Where are you going?"

"Just cleaning up. Be back in a minute."

Doyle lay back down and closed his eyes. He wanted to sleep, let the post coital drowsiness take him and not start thinking about things yet. He'd save that for tomorrow. There'd be plenty of time to worry then about what this would do to their friendship and about what Bodie would have to do on the assignment. Yes, it would all keep until tomorrow.

Doyle closed his eyes and went to sleep.

 

Part 5

It was the smell of breakfast cooking that coaxed Doyle out of Bodie's bed the following morning. He wandered into the kitchen to find Bodie at the stove, frying bacon and eggs, a fresh pot of tea and toast already waiting on the table.

"Thought you might be hungry," was all Bodie said not looking up from the spitting fat.

"Thanks," Doyle replied looking anywhere but at Bodie.

"Listen, I've been thinking," Bodie began as he placed plates on the table and took a seat opposite.

"Yeah? 'Bout what?" Doyle asked warily.

"We're going to need someone else in on the op with us, a third man."

"And why's that Bodie?"

"Well think about it – how's it going to look if you go into the club each night, watching me, and turning down all comers? Because they're going to hit on you and after a while it's going to look odd if you don't take some of them up on the offer. But if you go in with someone each night, stay with them like you're a couple, it won't look so strange. You can both keep an eye on me and watch for Rickman too."

"Oh and I suppose you have someone in mind for this do you?'

"Yeah, I thought that new fellow, Murphy, would do."

"Murphy? He's only been with the squad a couple of weeks. What makes you think he'd be suitable?"

Bodie shrugged. "Well he's young and he's not as ….conservative as some of the lads. He's from a military background, the Guards and ….well…I just think he wouldn't make a fuss or tell tales afterwards."

"You think?" Doyle asked and Bodie nodded. "Sounds like you know him better than I do, then." Doyle took a deep breath wondering if Bodie knew more about Murphy than he was letting on. "Will Cowley approve it?"

"He will when I explain it to him. He'll see the sense in it."

Doyle had to concede that Bodie was probably right. He hadn't given thought to his own role in the operation but Bodie obviously had been thinking about it. Had Bodie slept at all last night or had he lain awake going over the op? "It's a good idea. I'll go along with it."

"Right, then eat up or we'll be late. We'll have to drop by your flat for a change of clothes."

And that was the end of the conversation. They didn't discuss what had happened last night. Didn't refer to it or joke about it and Doyle was quietly relieved. Perhaps when this was all over they could simply forget it had ever happened. At least that's what Doyle told himself. He wasn't going to think about what Bodie's lips and tongue had done to him or how Bodie had felt beneath him, his body hot and sweating, rising up to meet his thrusts. No he wasn't going to think about it at all.

"You coming?" Bodie called and Doyle jumped.

"Uh, yeah," he said grabbing his jacket. "I'm coming."

 

Part 6

"Good idea 3.7. I can see you have put some thought into this operation." George Cowley sat back in his chair and smiled. "I'll have a word with 6.2 and then you can brief him but I think he's a good choice."

"Thank you, sir." Bodie responded. "There's just one other question." His voice had taken on a hesitant note which had been absent while he explained his plans to the controller.

Ray Doyle, who'd been lounging against the wall while Bodie did all the talking stood up, attention focused on his friend.

"Well go on Bodie, what is it man?" Cowley asked impatiently.

"I was wondering what I'll do if Rickman wants some sort of proof before he trusts me with his plans?"

"Ah, I've already thought of that. If photographic proof should be required of your…shall we say…liaisons, then we'll organise a meeting with a certain man in a significant government position and allow Rickman to get some photos of the two of you in flagrante."

"And who might this man be, sir?" Doyle asked, striding back to the desk. "I don't imagine you'd get many volunteers, even if it was for Queen and country."

Cowley sat up straight and looked from one agent to the other. "I didn't call for volunteers 4.5. I will be the target."

"You, sir?" Bodie paled.

"Yes me Bodie. Don't look so shocked. What better target than the head of CI5? We'll stage something if necessary. Nothing too revealing, just enough to give Rickman the general idea."

"Yes sir." Bodie did not sound enthusiastic.

"All right, off you go while I have a word with 6.2. Ask Betty to arrange some fake IDs and some temporary lodgings for the duration of the assignment. Doyle, you and Murphy can share a flat if you're supposed to be a couple. Report back this afternoon. I want this operation ready to commence tomorrow night."

Once on their own again, Bodie took a deep breath and exhaled sharply. "Don't think I can do that."

"What?" asked Doyle. This was a turnaround. "You changed your mind?"

"No! But I can't do that with Cowley. It would be like fucking me father."

"Yeah, he's just about old enough."

"No. I mean ….he's like me father."

"Cowley? Like your father?"

"Yeah, that's how I see him. Sort of like a father would be. Never had one but I always thought he'd be like that. Stern, but always looking out for you."

Doyle just shook his head. George Cowley looked after just one thing and that was Mother England, his agents were his pawns. Given their current assignment, perhaps that should be whores? But he wasn't going to say that to Bodie. Let him keep his notions. They were harmless enough.

 

Part 7

Wednesday night saw Doyle and Murphy sitting across the table from one another, sipping overpriced drinks in the smoky atmosphere as they surreptitiously kept an eye on Bodie who was seated at the bar. Cowley'd had no trouble convincing Murphy to be the third man in the operation. The tall darkhaired agent had listened quietly as Bodie went over the arrangements and nodded at Doyle as if a stake out in a gay bar was just a run of the mill operation.

"Fairly quiet place," Doyle said looking around.

"That's because it's a weeknight. Wait until Friday and Saturday. They have a DJ then. There'll barely be room to move on the dance floor."

"A DJ, you say." Doyle wondered how Murphy had come by that bit of information. "Been here before, then?" he asked, trying to keep his voice light.

Murphy laughed. "No. There was a notice up at the door when we came in. Didn't you see it?"

"Must have missed it, sorry." Doyle felt foolish. He should be paying more attention. His concern for Bodie was becoming a distraction. And he was concerned. Not simply because of the danger; that was a regular feature in their line of work. No, it was the thought of Bodie indulging in sexual activity with not only Rickman but any number of others, that had Doyle in turmoil. He shied away from examining his feeling too closely, content to put his outrage down to the nature of the assignment alone. But he couldn't deny the strange sense of protectiveness and possessiveness that suddenly coloured his feelings whenever he thought about Bodie with other men.

Doyle directed his gaze to the bar where Bodie was being chatted up by a slim, darkhaired man who had bought him a drink. Despite his bravado, Bodie was on edge too. Doyle detected his friend's unease in the coldness in his smile, the way his fingers moved on his glass and his foot tapped ceaselessly against the leg of the bar stool. Little things, but Doyle knew the signs.

The stranger leaned close, whispering something in Bodie's ear and Doyle held his breath. He watched as Bodie slipped an arm around the man and whispered something back. They'd been there for over and hour and this was the third man who had made a pass at Bodie. He was the first who had managed to get as far as sitting down and buying a drink.

"This must be hard for you." Doyle turned to find Murphy leaning across their table, his voice pitched low. "Watching him like this."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I just thought …"

"I'm not queer, Murphy."

Murphy bit his lip. "I didn't mean anything. I just thought…"

"Yeah, well don't."

"Look Doyle, I'm not going to judge anyone. What goes on here, what Bodie does, goes no further. I know there are others who wouldn't understand and who'd give him hell if this became public knowledge. I'm not one of them."

"Yeah, okay Murph." He understood now why Bodie had included Murphy in the operation. "I'm sorry." Doyle turned back just in time to see Bodie and his companion leave the bar and make for the exit. Liaisons such as this were usually conducted in nearby alleyways, shadowy doorways, phone boxes and cars, or, if the participants were desperate enough, the gents out the back. Doyle felt sick. Every instinct called for him to follow Bodie and watch his back. But this was part of their prearranged plan. Bodie would return in less than thirty minutes. If not, then Doyle and Murphy would wander outside together ostensibly looking for their own bit of privacy. It had been agreed that Bodie would not go home with anyone other than Rickman.

But there had been no sign of Rickman so far and when Bodie returned twenty minutes later their target still had not appeared. Bodie and his pickup shared another drink while Doyle ground his teeth and watched. Murphy tried to keep up small talk but Doyle was not in the mood.

An hour later they called it a night. The three men met briefly outside the club as if by accident. Murphy stopped for a cigarette and asked Bodie, who was passing, if he had a light. As they huddled together Doyle had just enough time to ask the most important question of all.

"You all right?"

"Yeah, fine." Bodie grinned. "We just blew each other in the laneway."

Murphy laughed. "Hope he bought you a drink afterwards."

"I bought him one, mate," Bodie said with a wink and wandered off to his car.

Doyle couldn't understand the humour.

 

Part 8

They were back the next night. Rickman didn't put in an appearance and Bodie managed to avoid anything more complex than a hand job in some bloke's car. Doyle's nerves were still on edge.

As Murphy had predicted the real action took place at the end of the week. The club was mostly full by the time Doyle and Murphy claimed a table. Bodie had found a niche at the bar but was almost obscured by the pulsating mass of bodies on the dance floor. The air was thick with the acid sting of smoke and the heavy smell of sweat. Flashing lights and the thudding beat of music overpowered the senses. Doyle could feel a headache coming on. He strained his neck to see Bodie, but could only catch glimpses of his dark head through the flow and surge of dancers.

"You want to dance?" Murphy asked. Doyle glared at him.

"Look, it'll pass the time and help with our cover. Besides, we can watch Bodie better if we're on our feet."

Doyle conceded that Murphy had a point. "Yeah, all right." He followed Murphy to the dance floor aware of the looks he was getting, speculative glances from hungry eyes who were hoping he and Murphy weren't attached. Bodie's suggestion to bring in a third man suddenly made complete sense.

It was odd dancing with someone taller, he thought as he tried to maintain a decent distance between himself and Murphy. The younger agent rolled his eyes and looped an arm around Doyle's neck, pulling him in closer. "Relax" he whispered into his ear as he moved to the music.

Normally Doyle enjoyed dancing but this felt wrong. He looked around at the other couples thrusting and gyrating against each other and back at Murphy who was trying hard to keep a straight face.

"Oh Christ." Doyle muttered, aware they were standing out like a proverbial sore thumb. He slinked closer to Murphy, slid his hands around his waist. "You say one word about this and you're a dead man, Murphy." Murphy just smiled.

Doyle closed his eyes and let the beat of the music take hold. He wondered how they looked, hip to hip on the dance floor, wondered if Bodie was watching. He could feel the heat and press of bodies around him, was close enough to smell Murphy's aftershave. He opened his eyes and watched a tiny bead of sweat slide down Murphy's neck to become trapped in the hair that showed where his shirt was unbuttoned. Doyle took a deep breath and looked for Bodie.

Across the sway of bodies, Doyle found Bodie watching. He grinned, wiggled his dark eyebrows and raised his glass in a silent salute. Doyle grinned back just as a stranger slid in to the space beside Bodie at the bar. Before long, Bodie was heading towards the exit with the stranger in tow. Doyle began his silent vigil.

It took longer this time. Doyle was just starting to worry when Murphy whispered, "Bodie's back."

Doyle turned to watch Bodie make his way unsteadily back to the bar. "Something's wrong," Doyle hissed. Bodie's movement were too uncoordinated. "I'd better go check on him."

"No, you wait at the table. I'll go to the bar, get some drinks." Murphy said, and moved off before Doyle could object.

"Damn," Doyle muttered under his breath. What had Bodie done? He watched as Murphy approached the bar. Watched as he casually turned and spoke a few words to Bodie. Watched as he ordered drinks and returned.

"Well? What's wrong with him?" Doyle demanded.

"Drugged I think." Murphy said in a soft voice. "He said the bloke gave him something to help him…relax."

"Do you know what he took? Ludes, poppers?" Murphy just stared at him. "I was on the drug squad," Doyle explained, one eye on Bodie.

"He didn't know," Murphy replied shaking his head. "Says he's all right, just a bit …fuzzy."

"Fuzzy? Oh that's just great," Doyle muttered.

"Any sign of Rickman?" Murphy asked.

"I haven't seen him. But this place is so crowded he could be here and we'd never  
know."

"Uh oh….where's Bodie going now?"

Doyle swung back to the bar just in time to see Bodie leaving with another stranger. They were draped all over each other, the strangers hand was resting firmly on Bodie's arse.

"Fuck," Doyle cursed. He stood up quickly but paused. For as Bodie and his partner left, Rickman and a younger blond haired man enter.

Murphy glanced around. "Rickman. What do we do now?"

Doyle sat down again and gripped the edge of the table, his knuckles white. "We'll have to wait for Bodie to come back. We can't do anything that would look suspicious." And interrupting Bodie's liaison would be highly suspicious. "Can you see where Rickman's gone?"

"Yeah, he's behind you, to your left. Not far."

Calming his nerves, Doyle picked up his glass and took a long drink. "How did he seem?"

"Rickman?" asked Murphy.

"No, Bodie!" Doyle couldn't keep his agitation from his voice. "Did he seem all right?"

"Well, yes….I would have thought he was drunk if he hadn't told me he'd taken something." Murphy frowned into his glass. "He was a bit…frisky." He looked at Doyle and smiled. "Said to tell you he thought you looked hot when you were dancing."

Doyle ran his hand through his curls. "That'd be right. Those bloody drugs are designed to loosen you up and get you going. He'll be anyone's tonight."

Bodie chose just that moment to stagger back to the bar. Doyle sat up, straining his neck to watch. "We'll have to do something. We can't leave him like this, there's no telling what he might do."

Murphy leaned across the table. "Stop looking at him."

Doyle ignored him. "He might put himself and the op at risk if he keeps this up."

"I said stop looking at him." Murphy's raised voice caught Doyle attention.

"What?" Doyle blinked.

Murphy's chair crashed to the floor as he surged to his feet.

"You can't take your eyes off him, can you? Well I've had enough! If you want him so badly then go fuck him." Murphy picked up his glass. "I'm going home. AND I'm taking the car." With a dramatic flick of his wrist, Murphy flung the rest his drink in Doyle's face before storming off.

Doyle's shock was genuine. Around him there were cat calls and applause. Doyle wiped his face. Well done Murphy, he thought to himself as he went to rescue Bodie at the bar.

 

Part 9

"Come on mate, I'm taking you home."

The leer Bodie turned on Doyle made his stomach do a somersault. "Been waiting a long time to hear you say that, Doyle."

Doyle leaned close and slipped an arm around Bodie's waist. "Shut up, we're undercover remember." He dragged his partner to his feet. "M'name's Mark Layton," he said a little louder.

Bodie blinked a couple of times and said, "Yeah, sorry, forgot. I'm Bentley, just Bentley."

Doyle couldn't help but smile. "Bent something," he muttered as he half carried Bodie out of the club.

"Where's your car?"

"Down there somewhere, I think. Can't really remember," Bodie said, trying to get his legs working.

"It's no wonder you can't think straight. What did that bloke give you? Pills, what?"

"Yeah about that Doyle,…Mark," Bodie slurred. "I want to explain…"

Doyle spotted Bodie's car and headed down the street, dragging Bodie with him.

"You know you could have blown it, you big git." Doyle scowled.

"I'll blow you, Layton." Bodie squirmed in Doyle's grasp and pushed him up against a wall. "Blow you right here."

"Not here, mate" Doyle pushed back, sending Bodie staggering. Was Bodie serious or just playing to the crowd? Doyle grabbed him again and they struggled briefly, Bodie's hands assailing Doyle's clothing, while he tried to keep his partner on his feet and moving towards the car. Doyle wasn't sure what was more disturbing; that they were wrestling like this in public or that no one around was taking any notice. Coppers would have a field day here, Doyle thought to himself as he steered Bodie down the street. They were probably paid to turn a blind eye or perhaps the sheer number of offenders made them reluctant to step in unless a formal complaint was made. There were couples everywhere, partially hidden in shadow, seeking out any bit of privacy they could find.

"Give me the keys" Doyle demanded and manoeuvred Bodie into the Capri. He hurried around the other side and took the driver's seat.

"Do you know how dangerous that stuff is Bodie? Do you know what it does to you?"

"Do you?" Bodie threw back.

"Oh yeah mate. Drug squad remember?"

"Then you know why I took it. The bloke wanted to fuck me."

"Amyl nitrite," Doyle guessed. "It comes in little capsules that you break open and sniff. It's an involuntary muscle relaxant." He glanced at Bodie, remembering how tense his friend had been the night they'd done that, "Relaxes the sphincter muscle, among others."

Bodie nodded. "I was worried that I wouldn't be able to do it," he sniffed, bottom lip trembling in an uncharacteristic manner. "Didn't want to let Cowley down. Thought if I took the stuff it wouldn't be so bad."

"But that's not what's affecting you now. Poppers wear off pretty quickly."

"Bloke gave me some sort of pill as well. Said it would make me enjoy it more."

"Oh Bodie." Doyle reached out and rested his hand on his partner's shoulder. It was probably some sort of barbiturate or methaqualone judging from the way Bodie was reacting.

Blue eyes smiled at Doyle and Bodie rested his cheek against the back of Doyle's hand.

In the close confines of the car Bodie smelt of sex and alcohol. His eyes were dark, pupils widely dilated. The car suddenly felt hot and claustrophobic. As the first kick of arousal started deep in his groin Doyle pulled his hand away, shocked by his reaction. "Come on…I'll take you home and you can sleep it off."

But Bodie had other ideas. "Not tired," he said sitting up and reaching over to slide his hand up Doyle's thigh. "Want me to blow you Ray?"

Doyle paused, key in the ignition, waiting to start the engine. "No Bodie." Increased sexual arousal – it was just another side effect of drugs like that, Doyle told himself, explaining away Bodie's recklessness. But that was no excuse for his own unexpected response. What had Bodie done to him? Because this had to be Bodie's fault! He'd never experienced any sort of sexual attraction to a man before Bodie had asked him to help out.

"I'll blow you. Here in the car." Bodie said again, his fingers fumbling towards Doyle's fly. "And it's Bentley, remember, we're undercover."

Yes, they were undercover and even now other couples strolling past were giving them no more than a glance. They were just another two blokes looking to get lucky with each other. Too late Doyle made a grab for Bodie's hands but they had already found their target. The metallic grind of a zipper being opened echoed in the car. Doyle held his breath.

"Just watch out for coppers, Ray."

"Bodie, don't." But the protest was unconvincing even to his own ears. He'd been dreaming about this, remembering the feel of Bodie's lips and tongue, the muscle and the movement of his mouth. Doyle closed his eyes, sank his fingers into Bodie's hair and his cock into Bodie's throat and gave himself over to lust.

 

Part 10

"Just part of our cover," Bodie said afterwards, as he lay back in the seat and closed his eyes.

"Yeah," Doyle answered as he started the car. I shouldn't have let that happen, he told himself over and over again as he drove through the darkness to Bodie's temporary lodging. I should have stopped him. But if he was truthful with himself then stopping Bodie had been the last thing he wanted. He'd been hard at the first touch of Bodie's fingers on his thigh.

"Ray, are you mad with me?" Bodie finally asked in the deafening silence.

"I'm mad with myself."

"Don't be." But Bodie wouldn't look at him, just stared out the window at the passing shadows. "I'm sorry Ray."

"You shouldn't have taken that stuff. That's what caused this. It's made you…"

"Randy?"

Doyle glanced at Bodie's lap and the erection his friend was making no move to hide. "That's an understatement." He held his breath, waiting for Bodie to come back with a smart remark about helping him out by returning the favour but his friend remained silent.

They pulled up at the flat and Doyle helped his partner up the stairs and inside. The flat was small but already stamped with Bodie's own brand of neatness.

"You want a cuppa tea?" Doyle asked.

"No. You staying?" Bodie had collapsed on the couch.

"I think I'd better, if only to keep an eye on you mate."

"Don't tell Cowley what I did," Bodie pleaded. "I don't want to disappoint him." There was a hitch to Bodie voice and he folded his arm across his eyes. Doyle wondered if he was crying.

"Come on, it's not that bad. You're just coming down from a high." Doyle crossed to the couch and crouched down. "You all right mate?"

Bodie didn't answer. "Anything happen Bodie? Did one of those blokes…hurt you?"

That got Bodie's attention. He moved his arm away and looked straight at Doyle. "No, I'm fine. Don't know why I was worried…just didn't want to let Cowley down, you know."

"You sure mate?" A slither of unease crept up Doyle's spine.

"Yeah, I'm fine Ray. Just tired now and still a bit… randy." Bodie used that seductive smile of his, the one that Doyle had often seen him use on women to his advantage. "Don't suppose you want to …give me a bit of a hand?"

"A hand you say?" Doyle asked, standing up. Bodie's blue eyes followed him.

"Or anything else you might feel like giving me," Bodie suggested.

"It's your problem Bodie. And a big boy like you should know how to take care of it. Off you go. Bedroom's down there, isn't it?"

"You're a heartless bugger, Doyle. After what I did for you in the car…"

"That was part of our cover, Bentley. You said so yourself." It was Doyle's only defence. They were undercover, that's why he'd let Bodie blow him. And if there was another reason, one that Doyle could hardly admit to himself, then he certainly wasn't going to share it with Bodie.

Bodie pouted.

Doyle scowled. "Don't push your luck Bodie." Doyle's voice left no room for doubt. "I'm not queer."

"Yeah, so you said." Bodie walked away without another word. Doyle settled in for an uncomfortable night on the couch.

 

Part 11

"So he was all right then?" Murphy asked the next day when Doyle returned to their flat.

"Yeah, he knows it was a mistake, but he was…a bit …worried about what that guy wanted and whether he could go through with it…you know?"

"Wanted a fuck, did he?" The words slipped off Murphy's tongue like they were discussing the weather.

"Uh, yeah, that's what he wanted. Bodie was a bit…nervous about it all."

"That's understandable. Don't blame him."

"So there's no need to mention the drugs in our report to Cowley. Bodie knows he did the wrong thing and has assured me he won't do it again."

"Fair enough. Cowley doesn't need all the details. We'll keep it between the three of us."

"Thanks Murph, we both owe you one. That was quick thinking last night, quite a performance with the drink."

"You liked that did you?" Murphy smiled. "It happened to me once."

"Really?" Doyle frowned. "Some bloke threw a drink over you because you were looking at someone else?"

Murphy shook his head and rolled his eyes. "Not a bloke, a bird! What do you think I am?"

"Oh, err, sorry. I didn't mean…"

Murphy laughed. "Think this op is getting to you, Doyle."

There was truth in Murphy's words, Doyle conceded.

Last night he'd found it impossible to get to sleep as he lay on Bodie's couch. His thoughts kept turning to Bodie and what he was probably doing in the bedroom. Doyle had argued with himself that he should go and check that Bodie was all right. After all, there was no telling what nasty side effects the drugs might cause. It made sense to check on him now and again. It had nothing to do with the fact that he felt a strange curiosity to catch Bodie in the act. He'd held his breath, straining to hear any little tell tale sounds. He remembered the moans and gasps Bodie had made when he'd fucked him. Would he sound the same when he jerked off? And what noises did he make when someone sucked his cock? Perhaps I should have offered to give him a hand, as Bodie had so elegantly put it? Bodie had blown him twice now so it was only fair that he do something in return. At that thought, Doyle knew he was in trouble. Yes, something was definitely wrong when you started thinking about giving your partner a blow job. What the hell was happening to him?

It was the op, it had to be. It was getting to him just like Murphy had said. Of course some of the blame had to be laid at Bodie's feet too, for being so damned good at it all. If he, Doyle, hadn't enjoyed it so much then this wouldn't be causing such a problem.

"So do you think there's going to be any problems tonight?" Murphy asked dragging Doyle back to the here and now.

"What?" Doyle blinked. Had Murphy suddenly become a mind reader?

"Do you think Bodie will be all right tonight? He hasn't chickened out has he?"

"No, he said he'll be fine. He doesn't want to disappoint the Cow."

"Well I'm glad it's him and not me. It takes a brave man to do something like that."

"Brave or foolish," Doyle said under his breath.

 

Part 12

Saturday evening found them once again seated at a table near the dance floor, watching Bodie who had taken what had become his usual place at the bar. The club was even more crowded than Friday night.

"Mind if we join you?" asked a well-educated voice. Doyle looked up, straight into the brown eyes of Brian Rickman. "It's pretty crowded tonight. Not many spare tables."

"Uh, no, sure, pull up a chair," Doyle replied.

"Name's Brian. Brian Rickman and this is Julian Abbott," Rickman indicated the young fair haired man who had been with him the previous night.

"I'm Mark, Mark Layton and this is Tony Cocker."

"As in spaniel," Murphy said shaking hands as he fell into character.

"Yeah, regular little lap-dog, aren't you," Doyle muttered as he moved his chair around to allow Rickman to slide in beside him.

"That was quite a show you two put on last night," Rickman smiled. "I'm surprised you're still together."

Doyle looked at Murphy, "I'm not sure I'm completely forgiven just yet."

Murphy glared. "Suffer a bit longer." He leaned towards Julian who was seated next to him, "I mean, can you imagine, throwing me over for that!" He nodded towards Bodie who was chatting to someone at the bar.

Rickman raised an eyebrow at Doyle, clearly interested. "Ah, our tall dark handsome stranger who's been fucking like there's no tomorrow."

"He's a bit of a goer," Doyle agreed, following Rickman's gaze.

"Bit of a bloody tosser, more like it!" Murphy snarled.

Doyle played his advantage. "Oh now come on, love. Just because he likes to talk is no reason to disparage the bloke." He turned back to Rickman and gave him a conspiratorial smile. "He did have his good points."

"Bloody name dropper, is what he is," Murphy supplied on cue. He turned to Julian and leaned in close, placing a hand on his forearm, "He reckoned he'd been with Elton, of all people!" Murphy rolled his eyes dramatically. Doyle hid his smile behind his hand and tried not to laugh.

"Bit of a talker was he?" Rickman asked, eyes on Bodie.

"You could say that. I think he was trying to impress me by who he knew. Only I wasn't after him for his small talk," Doyle grinned. "Besides, didn't know who half them were. Don't follow politics much."

A look passed between Rickman and Julian which Doyle pointedly ignored.

"There he goes again," Murphy declared nodding towards the bar. "I reckon he's training for the fucking Olympics!" They all turned to watch Bodie as left with a new pickup.

"Would you like to dance Tony?" Julian asked. Murphy threw Doyle a quick glance, tilted his chin and declared, "Why not?" before flouncing off to the dance floor. Doyle stared after him. The man should have been in theatre. He was a natural!

"So are you two a couple?" Rickman asked fixing Doyle with his gaze.

"Well that was the idea. We moved down together from up North. Thought we'd try living with each other in the city where no one knew us. Thought it would be…fun." Doyle sipped his drink. "Guess I wasn't quite ready for monogamy."

"Don't blame you," Rickman said. "I can't see the sense in limiting oneself to one person. Julian and I have an open relationship. A bit of fresh blood helps to keep things interesting."

Doyle looked at Murphy and Julian dancing close together on the dance floor. "You mean you don't mind if he picks up other blokes?"

"No, in fact I encourage it. Works the other way too." Rickman gave him a lazy smile and Doyle's pulse began to race.

"Come on, let's dance." Rickman said. It was more of a demand than an invitation. Doyle wondered if he could decline gracefully. Short of engaging Rickman in further conversation there really wasn't much else he could do. At least this way he had their target in his sites.

As soon as they found space on the dance floor Rickman's hands were on him, gripping his hips and pulling him close. Doyle resisted the urge to pull away and instead draped his arms around Rickman's neck. All around them other couples were doing the same and worse. He looked around for Murphy and found him and Julian likewise engaged.

"So," Rickman began, lips close to Doyle's ear so he could be heard above the steady thump of music. "Have you and…uh…"

"Tony," Doyle supplied.

"Tony, been together long?"

"A while. What about you and Julian?"

"A long time, we're like an old married couple," Rickman said. Doyle could hear the humour in his voice. He jumped when Rickman slid one hand around to caress his arse.

Damn, he was not supposed to be the bait; that was Bodie's role. He'd told Cowley he'd resign before he'd let Rickman touch him. But Rickman's attention seemed to be firmly focused on Doyle and this might be their only chance to proceed with the op. Bodie had done so much already, putting up with the attentions of all those different men. If the op failed, then Bodie's sacrifice would have been for nothing. Doyle bit his lip. Just how far he was willing to go for his friend?

As if on cue, Bodie strolled back to his spot at the bar. He looked tired and Doyle suddenly wondered how much more of this Bodie could take. I'll have to give it a go, Doyle decided, play it by ear and hope he could convince Rickman he'd had some experience. Perhaps he could just say he didn't like fucking? He might be able to bluff his way through a blow job if he had too. Maybe he should have tried that out with Bodie last night? Just how hard could it be?

As Doyle was busy steeling himself to sacrifice body and soul, Rickman interrupted his thoughts by asking, "So was he worth it?"

"What? Was who worth it?"

"Was it worth getting on Tony's bad side for a quick fuck with Handsome over there?" Doyle followed Rickman's eyes to where Bodie was lounging against the bar, trousers stretched tight across his crotch.

Doyle took a deep slow breath and licked his lips. "Oh yeah, he was worth it," he said softly. And it was no lie.

 

Part 13

Murphy and Julian had bought another round of drinks by the time Doyle was able to escape Rickman's clutches and return to his seat. He was hot and thirsty and Rickman's hands had left him feeling slightly soiled. He took a long drink from his glass and assessed the situation. Murphy and Julian had their heads together sharing some sort of private joke and Rickman had at last turned his attention to Bodie.

Doyle briefly caught Murphy's eye and then glanced from Rickman to Bodie. Murphy blinked in acknowledgement then leaned closer to Julian and whispered something in his ear. Doyle looked away. There was a scraping of chairs as Murphy and Julian stood up together and headed back to the dance floor.

Rickman turned to Doyle and placed a hand on his thigh under the table.

"Listen, I've really enjoyed your company this evening," Rickman began, eyes straying towards Bodie. "Any other time I'd invite you back to my place, but I really want to try him out and see what all the fuss is about. You understand?" He gave Doyle a friendly smile and squeezed his leg.

"Ah, yeah, yeah." Doyle wondered if he should be insulted.

"Next time we'll have a bit of fun." And with that Rickman leaned in close and kissed him full on the lips. Doyle gasped and Rickman took the opportunity to slip his tongue in quickly before pulling away. "Hope you get lucky, sweetheart."

Doyle sat stunned as Rickman manoeuvred his way across the dance floor towards Bodie. He took another quick drink resisting the urge to wipe his mouth on the back of his hand. That bastard!

Rickman wasted no time in propositioning Bodie and Bodie wasted no time in agreeing. Within five minutes they were heading towards the door. Doyle let go a breath he didn't know he was holding and finished off his drink. Maybe now he and Murphy could call it a night and leave. As if on cue, Murphy slid into the seat next to Doyle and placed the car keys on the table.

"Here, you'll need these to get home. I'll see you tomorrow."

"What? Murphy, what are you talking about?"

"I'm going home with Julian," Murphy said, indicating to where the fair haired man waited by the door. He stood up. "See you tomorrow lover," he said, voice loud enough so that the nearby tables heard.

Doyle grabbed his forearm, pulling him back down. "Are you sure about this?"

"Attack on two fronts, Doyle, it's a strategist's dream. Tell Cowley." He pulled away. "It's too late to be sorry Mark, you should have thought about that last night!" With a dramatic toss of his head, Murphy minced away.

Slowly Doyle became aware of the silence and a dozen or so grinning patrons watching him.

"Shit," he muttered as he picked up the car keys and beat a hasty retreat.

 

Part 14

Doyle drove back to the flat he was sharing with Murphy and contacted Cowley.

"Well this is a stroke of luck." Cowley sounded pleased despite being woken in the early hours of the morning. "Murphy's a good man to jump in when the opportunity presented itself. Have they both gone back to Rickman's place?"

Doyle hesitated. "I…don't know. I didn't ask." He'd given no thought to where Julian might take Murphy but now that Cowley had raised the idea it was a distinct possibility. What Rickman had said about his relationship with his partner left little doubt that he would be open to all manner of things. Unbidden images of the four men together bombarded Doyle's imagination and left him feeling slightly sick.

"Well, never mind" Cowley said, voice crackling over the RT. "We'll find out the details soon enough. Have Murphy report in when he surfaces."

"Yes sir." Doyle turned the RT off and threw it onto the couch. He ran one hand roughly through his curls. "Bloody hell!" The thought of Bodie with Rickman was bad enough, but the four of them together was unthinkable.

If Rickman and Julian had set something up then Bodie would have to go along with it. And Murphy? Doyle shook his head. Murphy was the dark horse in all of this. He'd been unfazed by the assignment from the start and quick to take up Julian's invitation. Yes, Murphy knew his way around a cock, all right, bloody poofter. The real question was how well did he and Bodie know each other? Was there already something between them or had all of this been some sort of plan by Murphy to get Bodie into bed?

Doyle poured himself a large scotch and sat down. Of course there was nothing between Bodie and Murphy. His imagination was running wild. But the thought of Bodie with Murphy left a bitterness in his stomach that Doyle could not deny. He's my partner, Doyle reasoned, I don't like him working with anyone else.

But it was more than that, much more. He couldn't bear to think of Bodie sucking Murphy's cock or that Murphy might do the same to Bodie. Couldn't bear to think that Murphy might see Bodie as he had seen him, flushed with passion, or that Bodie might look at Murphy the way he'd looked at Doyle, his heart and soul shining in his eyes, nothing hidden, nothing held back. It was all there for the taking and Doyle had turned away.

"Oh Bodie!" Doyle put his head in his hands unable to deal with the sudden rush of feeling for his friend. There was no doubt that Bodie loved him and that he in turn loved Bodie, but it was the platonic type of love and it was completely understandable. They spent days on end together, watched each other's back, saved each other's life time and again. It was only natural to develop feelings for a friend, develop a bond that surpassed all others. If the line between them had become blurred in the last few days, well, that was understandable too, given their assignment.

It didn't mean that he, Doyle, had suddenly turned queer or fallen in love with his partner.

No, when this op was over, they could both forget everything and go back to being just mates, going on double dates, stealing each other's birds, doing all the things that good friends did together. Yes Doyle reasoned, nothing had changed and nothing would change. It was all completely understandable.

 

Part 15

Murphy wandered in just before noon, looking tired and rumpled.

"Well? What happened?" Doyle sprang up from the couch. "Cowley's waiting for a full report," he added as an afterthought.

Murphy frowned and raised one eyebrow. "Any chance of a cup of tea first? I'm buggered."

Doyle blinked. If that was a joke then it was in very bad taste. "Sure, sorry. How did it go?" He hurried to the kitchenette and put the kettle on.

"Very well. Our Julian likes to make movies. Had a nice little set up back at his flat."

"His flat?" Cups clanged together as Doyle fumbled in the cupboard. "You didn't go to Rickman's house?"

"No, Julian has a place in Kensington, although I think Rickman owns it."

"So you didn't see Bodie at all?" Doyle threw teabags into the cups.

"No, sorry." Murphy smiled slowly. "Did you think it was going to be a foursome Doyle?"

"Never crossed me mind," Doyle poured the hot water and breathed in the rising steam. "It's just that Cowley asked and I didn't know where you two were headed."

"I've got something for Cowley," Murphy pulled a roll of Super 8 movie film from his jacket pocket. "Grabbed that while Julian was asleep. There's a cupboard full, easily a hundred or more, but I didn't want to arouse suspicion so I only took one. Ta."

Doyle exchanged tea for film and slid the cover off. "Cowley's going to love this," he exclaimed holding it up to the light to examine the footage. It was too small to make out who was in the footage but there was no doubt what the men were doing. "Let's hope this isn't just a home movie."

"Yeah. Oh and if Cowley decides to raid the place, ask him to get rid of whatever's in the camera that's set up in the bedroom." Murphy winked. "Like I said, Julian was into movies."

"You took a bit of a risk getting this," Doyle said, acknowledging a new admiration for Murphy. "What would you have done if he'd woken and found you snooping?"

Murphy took a slurp of tea. "No chance of that. I made sure he was well and truly buggered by the end of it." He grinned behind the rim of his cup. "It's a wonder he can walk this morning."

Doyle shook his head, smirking. "That's more than I needed to know, mate."

"No one's heard from Bodie at all?"

"No, not unless he's checked in with HQ this morning."

"Well you get that to Cowley. I'm for a shower and a change of clothes then off to Julian's again," Murphy winked. "He wants me back for dinner."

"And he's not worried Rickman'll get jealous?"

"Nah, Rickman rang this morning and said he'd be tied up for the next couple of days."

Doyle raised an eyebrow, "Tied up?"

"I don't think he meant that literally, but I wouldn't put anything past that pair. Our Julian was into some kinky stuff."

Doyle raised his eyebrows, too intrigued to be shocked.

"Yeah, really," Murphy nodded. "But he's also rather…submissive. I just told him no, and took charge of it all," Murphy looked into his teacup and smiled. "He seemed to like that."

"I'll let Cowley know what Rickman said. It sounds like he's taken the bait." Doyle bit his lip. "Let's hope he doesn't chew Bodie up and spit out what's left before we have a chance to reel him in."

 

Part 16

Doyle delivered the film to his superior and was promptly told to cool his heals and write up a preliminary report while Cowley undertook the delicate task of identifying the man on the film and obtaining an interview with him. It sounded straightforward but as the hours crept by, Doyle realised that nothing was ever simple in this job. It was early evening before he was summoned to Cowley's office once more.

"This is much better than we could have hoped for," Cowley beamed at Doyle across his desk. "The man on the film is a prominent MP. We've managed to…convince…him that it's in his best interest to make a formal statement about Rickman's blackmail attempts."

"Convince him? He didn't want to co-operate, sir?' Doyle asked.

"No, not at first. He was worried about his reputation." Cowley gave a cold smile. "I managed to make him see that at least this way we could…control…what information becomes public. If he hadn't co-operated with us, well," Cowley spread his hands wide, face as innocent as an angel. "Who can say what might have found its way into the newspapers. He really is quite photogenic."

"You blackmailed him!" Doyle was caught somewhere between shock and admiration for his superior.

"I made the man see sense, 4.5, nothing more." Cowley sat back in his chair and looked at his watch. "Now that we have something to go on we'll pick up Rickman and Abbott simultaneously. I have teams assembling at both locations. I'll want you with me at Rickman's."

"What about Bodie and Murphy?" Doyle asked.

"They haven't checked in so we have no way of alerting them as to what is taking place. We'll have to go in and hope they work out what's happening once we start."

"They might have gone out to the club for the evening?" Doyle suggested.

"I've had both Rickman's and Abbott's places under surveillance since this afternoon and no one has been in or out."

Doyle frowned. Why hadn't he been sent to watch Rickman's place? After all, Bodie was in there and he was Bodie's partner. He should have been part of the ob instead of writing up reports all afternoon. "Has anyone seen Bodie in there?"

"Anson thinks he caught of glimpse of Bodie earlier through a second storey window." Cowley stood up. "You'll see him soon enough 4.5. Let's go."

 

Part 17

As he turned the Capri turned into Rickman's drive the headlights of an oncoming car shone straight into Doyle's eyes. He swung the wheel hard, bringing the Capri sideways, effectively blocking the entrance. The other car skidded to a stop a few feet away. Doyle locked eyes with the driver, Brian Rickman. Within moments the car was surrounded by CI5 agents and local police.

Doyle took great delight in dragging Rickman from his car. "Going somewhere?" he asked. "We've got a couple of questions we want answered first. I've heard you're into movies."

"You!" Rickman said, staring at Doyle and shaking his head.

"Yes me! Now, what have you done with Bodie?"

Rickman laughed. "You'll have to ask Julian that question. He's the one keeping your partner amused."

"Not him," Doyle shouted, grabbing Rickman by the coat and shaking him, "The bloke you picked up on Saturday night. What have you done with him?"

"Another one of yours is he?" Rickman looked deep into Doyle's eyes and leaned close. "I've done a lot of things with him," he whispered. "Would you like me to list them?"

Doyle broke Rickman's nose with his fist.

"Where is he?" Doyle demanded dragging Rickman up from his knees, ignoring the blood flowing down his face.

"Bedroom upstairs," Rickman replied, sniffing blood.

Doyle left him with Anson and ran to the house. Inside, he took the stairs two at a time and began a room to room search. He found Bodie in the main bedroom, stretched out on the bed, naked. His face and hair were covered in blood and it had seeped into the pillow and surrounding sheet.

"Get an ambulance! Now!" Doyle shouted to the agents down below before crossing to the bed. Bodie lay very still. Doyle bent close and felt for a pulse. "Bodie," he whispered, relieved to feel a steady beat. "Bodie?"

Dark lashes flickered, lips moved.

"Try and open you eyes, mate. There's an ambulance on its way. Just hold on."

Blue eyes flickered open and closed again. "Doyle?"

"Yeah mate, it's me. You're all right now."

Eyes struggled to open, tried to focus. "He hit me with the phone."

Doyle examined the head wound. "That's a nasty gash. You're going to need stitches." He the pulled off a pillow case and used it to wipe Bodie's face. "Bleeding's stopped."

"Someone tipped him off," Bodie said, pushing Doyle's hands away. "He got a phone call. I heard it. That's when he hit me."

"He didn't get away," Doyle said, pulling the blankets up to hide Bodie's nakedness. "We caught him leaving. I'll tell Cowley about the phone call and he can get someone onto it. You lie still until the ambulance gets here."

But Bodie struggled to sit. "No, help me get up, Ray?"

Doyle placed his hand on his friend's chest, "You need to stay down Bodie. You probably have a concussion and you've lost a lot of blood."

"I want to put me trousers on."

"Just lie still Bodie."

"I want me bloody trousers, Ray!"

"All right, all right. Stay there and I'll get them" Doyle stood up and looked around. Bodie's anger was a welcome relief indicating he wasn't too seriously hurt. In the distance sirens sounded. Doyle located the trousers on a nearby chair.

"You been here all this time?" Doyle asked "Not been home?"

"Yeah, he wouldn't let me leave." Bodie tried reaching up to take the trousers but his hand fell back to the bed. "Give us a hand, mate?"

Doyle let go a breath. "The things I do for you, Bodie!" He pushed the blankets back and pulled the trousers up his friend's legs. "No underwear mate, sorry, couldn't find it."

"Wasn't wearing any," Bodie said, trying for a smile but falling short. Outside, an ambulance pulled into the driveway.

"How'd you get him? Get Rickman?" Bodie asked, reaching out to grab Doyle's hand before he moved away.

"It was Murphy, he got the lead. Found some films at Julian's place."

"Murphy?"

"Yeah, mate, it's quite a story, but don't worry about it now. I'll fill you in later."

The ambulance officers arrived and Doyle stepped back to allow them more room to go to work. He took a deep breath, confident that Bodie wasn't too badly injured. Whilst bloody, the head wound didn't look deep. A probable concussion but it was unlikely to be a fracture or worse.

Leaving his friend in the hands of the ambulance officers, Doyle went to find Cowley.

"How's Bodie?" the controller asked when he saw Doyle approaching.

"Head wound. Rickman struck him with the phone. Bodie says someone tipped him off that we were coming."

"Well, that is interesting. I'll have to follow up everyone who knew about this raid and see if any have connections to Rickman. His blackmail scheme may extend further than we realised."

"I'm sure it will all be on those films, sir. You might recognise some familiar faces."

Cowley scowled. "Yes, although I don't relish watching them."

"Rather you than me, sir."

They both turned to watch as the ambulance officers carried Bodie out the door on a stretcher.

"Go with him to the hospital 4.5" Cowley said, his eyes following Bodie. "Tell them I want tests for all venereal diseases and an internal examination."

"Internal examination?"

Cowley swung back. "Internal, anal, rectal. Do I have to spell it out for you, 4.5?" he snapped.

Doyle blinked, shocked to hear such words coming from the controller's mouth. "Ah no sir, I get the picture but I don't think Bodie's going to like it much."

"I don't care if he likes it or not. It's an order 4.5, do you understand? I don't want this coming back to haunt anyone in a few years time."

"Yes sir," Doyle grumbled, making his way towards his car. Bodie was not going to be impressed.

 

Part 18

"Always thought you had a thick head," Doyle said with wince as he studied the neat row of stitches running along Bodie's hairline. "Guess it wasn't quite thick enough." They were in a small curtained cubicle in the Emergency Room of the hospital.

"Listen Ray, any chance that you can sneak me out of here now? I got such a head ache." Bodie sat wearily on the side of the bed, clad only in a thin hospital gown.

"Course you got a head ache, mate. You've got a bloody concussion!"

"Look, it'll be days before the Cow realises I skipped out before the tests and by then he'll be so wrapped up with Rickman that he probably won't worry."

"Oh he'll worry all right. He'll worry that you'll sue him or something." Doyle said with a grin before turning serious. "Anyway, you said yourself you were worried about getting injured if Rickman didn't take his time. Better to get it all checked out now."

"I'm not injured!" Bodie declared, voice rising. He grimaced, hand to head. "I just want to go to sleep in my own bed, that's all."

"And you will mate," Doyle said, patting his arm. "Soon as this part's over. And besides, you'd want to know if you had the clap too, wouldn't you?"

Bodie opened his mouth to reply but was cut off as the curtain was pulled back and a young nurse. "I'm sorry, sir," she said to Doyle. "You'll have to wait outside now."

"Will you be all right mate?" Doyle asked, wondering if he should stay anyway.

Bodie looked the nurse up and down and gave a tired smile, "Oh, I think I'll manage."

Doyle smiled back and disappeared through the curtains.

 

Part 19

Once outside Doyle found a white plastic chair and pulled it over, positioning himself in front of Bodie's cubicle. He closed his eyes and listened to the small sounds emanating from behind the curtain. He smiled as Bodie chatted up the nurse while she made preparations. Some things never changed.

"The doctor will be along in a moment, Mr Bodie. He'd rather you didn't bend over since you have a concussion so if you could lie down on your back please, knees up."

"Yeah love, I know the drill."

Doyle frowned, know the drill? What did Bodie mean by that? He sat up, turned his head. Something felt wrong. Perhaps he should go in and …

As Doyle stood up, a young doctor came around the corner headed for Bodie's cubicle. He smiled, white teeth brilliant against his dark skin and held up a hand. "Sorry, you'll have to wait here for now. This will only take a moment, then you may take your partner home. Tell Mr Cowley I'll have a report to him tomorrow.

"Yes Doctor. Thank you." Doyle sat down again. Home, yes, that's what they both needed. There were things he needed to say to Bodie, things he needed to ask and they could only be done at home.

A metallic crash brought Doyle to his feet.

"NO! You're not touching me, you dirty…" The rest of Bodie's expletive was cut off by a further crash and a high female scream.

"Mr Bodie! Please calm down," a deeper voice, the doctor's.

"No! Stay away from me! I'll kill you if you touch me again."

Doyle tore the curtain open to find the doctor and nurse huddled together at the end of the bed amid the chaos of overturned equipment and surgical instruments. Bodie stood backed into one corner, the surgical tray clutched in front of him like a shield.

"Get away from me!" Bodie shouted. The wound on his head had opened again and a thin trail of blood was seeping down his face.

"Okay Bodie, just calm down," Doyle said, moving towards his friend.

"Get a sedative, sister, quickly" Doyle heard the doctor whisper.

"It's all right Bodie, mate. Put that down."

But Bodie was no longer in the emergency room. He was fighting demons from his past, lost in a nightmare that had been buried for too long. He swung the tray at Doyle's head with horrifying intent. Doyle ducked and tackled Bodie to the ground, holding him as he struggled while the doctor administered a hypodermic.

 

Part: 20

Cowley strode down the hospital corridor, coat flapping like an angry bat. "What's 3.7 been up to now 4.5? I'm told he tried to destroy half the hospital."

Doyle stood up, "Nothing quite so bad, sir. He was fine until the doctor came to do the internal."

"Did you tell him it was my order?"

"Oh I don't think it was the examination itself. He seemed fine with that. It was the doctor…"

"The doctor?"

"Yeah, he was black and, well, you know what Bodie thinks about…"

"Yes, yes, we all know about Bodie's prejudices. I'll have to speak to him because those attitudes have no place in CI5."

"I've been thinking about it, sir, and well, I wonder if something happened to Bodie in a hospital in Africa? He certainly doesn't like black doctors touching him. Maybe he had a bad experience with one back in his mercenary days?"

Cowley considered Doyle's words. "Hmm, you might be onto something there 4.5. No doubt he saw his fair share of hospitals back then, either as a patient or visiting fellow mercenaries. They are not always the most popular of patients either. Too many little factions in those places. Not to mention that most of the staff are hardly qualified. Who knows what Bodie may have experienced? Substandard care, not enough anaesthetic, infection or worse. Perhaps he lost a friend to a doctor's incompetence."

"It would explain a lot sir."

"I'll have a word to him about it. Get it cleared up before it happens again."

The doctor who had been treating Bodie appeared at the end of the corridor and made his way toward Cowley.

"Good evening, Doctor. I understand Bodie gave you a bit of trouble. I apologise for that. Apart from the head wound is there anything to report?"

"Not really. He has a concussion and required some stitches for the laceration to his head. Unfortunately we had to sedate him when he became….agitated, not a good idea when dealing with concussion. We'll keep him in overnight and monitor him as a precaution. We've completed all the necessary tests for venereal diseases. The results will take time. You'll receive a copy as soon as they are available. Otherwise, apart from some minor rectal abrasions, your man is fine, which is rather surprising considering his past history."

Cowley blinked. "Past history? I don't understand. What do you mean by that, Doctor?"

The doctor hesitated, looking from one man to the other. "Umm, you don't know?" He bit his lip, suddenly unsure. "Perhaps I shouldn't have said anything. It's confidential."

"Oh don't give me that rubbish man. Nothing is confidential when you work for CI5. You can either tell me know or I will have you spend the rest of the night writing up a detailed medical history. Now explain what you meant."

"There is evidence of an old injury. It would appear that your Mr Bodie has, at some time in the past, been the victim of what could only be described as a rather brutal rape."

"I see." Cowley paused a moment, hand to lip, unable to find words. "Do you have any idea of when this may have happened?"

"Not really, but we are talking years, rather than months. It could explain his earlier behaviour."

"Thank you, Doctor. I expect a separate written report on this matter, but there is no need to make mention of it in Bodie's medical file at this stage. Do you understand?"

The doctor nodded and Cowley waited until he was out of earshot before turning to Doyle. "Did you know about this?" he demanded.

"NO!" Doyle protested. "Did you?" Doyle wouldn't put it past Cowley to ignore something like this if it suited his purposes.

"No. And if I did I would never have let him take the assignment." Cowley glanced towards the curtained annex, deep in thought. "Bodie's done an admirable job of hiding his past. Oh, I've looked into it of course but his history has more gaps than the dark ages. Whatever happened, he's hidden it well." He looked back at Doyle. "You can ask him about it tomorrow."

"Me? I don't think he's going to want to talk to me about it…I mean…he's never said anything and it's not the sort of thing you can just bring up in conversation."

"Well someone has to find out what happened. He either talks to you or I'll send him off to Dr Ross."

Doyle opened his mouth to object but Cowley spoke again. "And you can tell him I said that too. I know how much he enjoys her sessions."

Cowley raised one hand to rub his chin, eyes on the curtain as if he could see through it to where Bodie lay. "Damned fool," he whispered under his breath. "He should have said something."

For one moment Doyle was struck by how old and tired their controller looked. Cowley rarely showed weakness. He'd somehow even overcome the painful leg which had given him so much trouble in the early years of CI5. But every now and again, Doyle would get a glimpse of the physical and emotional cost that being head of CI5 exacted from Cowley.

"You go home sir. I'll wait here a while in case Bodie wakes up. Wouldn't want him to start smashing the place up again, would we."

Cowley studied Doyle for long moments before he spoke. "I'll leave him in you hands then, Doyle. He trusts you. Take him home, talk to him and find out about this. I want to see you in my office by 3.00pm tomorrow."

"Yes sir. Goodnight."

Doyle sat back down in the plastic chair and put his head in his hands trying to get his mind around the latest revelations. Easy for Cowley to say talk to him, Bodie'd already had an opportunity to bare his soul if he had wanted to, when they were in bed together. He'd chosen to remain silent.

I should have realised something was wrong, Doyle told himself. But how could he, really? He had absolutely no experience with men.

It helped explain the drugs Bodie had taken though and why he'd risked the assignment like that.

What it didn't explain was why Bodie had volunteered for it in the first place.

"Oh Bodie," Doyle muttered to himself. "You big idiot."

 

Part 21

"Doyle? You asleep?"

Doyle jerked awake, narrowly avoiding falling off his chair. He must have dozed off. A quick check of his watch showed it was 2.45 am. He blinked, looked up at the tall dark haired agent and shook his head.

"No, just resting my eyes. What are you doing here Murph?"

Murphy pulled another chair over and sat down. "Just finished with those rectal tests Cowley ordered. The bloody Doctor wanted me to take a sedative before he'd…well…you know. Took me ages to convince him I wasn't going to go crazy if he touched me." Murphy glanced towards the curtained annex before looking back at Doyle. "I hear Bodie caused a bit of bother. Guess they didn't want to take the chance with another CI5 agent. Is he all right?"

"Yeah, he's all right. Just wasn't keen on the tests."

"Don't blame him. Still, it's best to be on the safe side, eh?"

"Yeah."

They sat in silence for a while. Doyle's thoughts were still on Bodie and it took an effort to stop and think about the man beside him. "So you all right then?" he asked Murphy who had sat back and closed his eyes.

"Yeah, fine. I'm just tired. Haven't had much sleep in the last 48 hours," Murphy smiled and blushed.

Doyle shook his head and chuckled. "Lucky you. So how did the raid go at the flat? Any trouble?"

"No, I had Julian nicely occupied when they broke down the door. He didn't even put up a struggle. They've taken all the film back to HQ. Someone's going to have fun watching it." Murphy grinned, quite pleased with himself. "It looks like Julian was Rickman's original bait. Julian would lure their target back to his flat and Rickman would film the encounter. After a while, Rickman decided to branch out. He recruited other men to work in the operation. He and Julian were still a partnership but it's obvious who was in charge. The flat, all of the equipment, were paid for by Rickman. Julian used it for recreational purposes mostly. He simply didn't have the brains to set up a scheme like that."

"What about that film in the camera you were so worried about?" Doyle asked.

"Strange about that. The camera was empty when they checked it." Murphy patted his pocket. "No telling what happened to it," he grinned, but then his face took on a more serious countenance. "There's just one thing, though. How often are we sent on this kind of assignment? I had no idea that I'd be expected to do this sort of thing when I signed on. Took me by surprise when Cowley asked me."

"That was the first I've ever heard of," Doyle explained. "Hope it's the last too!"

"You mean, you'd don't do this sort of thing all the time?" Murphy asked, his voice rising slightly.

"No, thank God."

"Bloody hell! And here I was, thinking this was just par for the course for you lads." Murphy scratched his head. "I was worried that Cowley wouldn't like it if I told him no, me only being in the squad a few weeks. Thought he might turf me out on my arse if he knew I was a complete novice!"

"So you'd never done it before?" Doyle asked, unable to believe what Murphy was implying.

"No! What do you think I am, queer or something?" Murphy softened the accusation with a big grin. "But there was no way I was going to be shown up by Cowley's two best agents so I figured I'd just improvise as I went along."

Doyle shook his head. "You're a better man than me, Murph. I don't know that I could have done it."

Murphy stretched and stood up. "Yeah well, it wasn't so bad once I got into it, pardon the pun. I might even go so far as to say I enjoyed myself." He patted his pocket again. "And it's all captured on Kodachrome."

They looked at each other and laughed, softly at first so as not to arouse the attentions of the night staff. But the harder they tried to stop, the more their mirth bubbled to the surface and soon they were giggling and spluttering like naughty schoolboys, a much needed release of the day's tensions.

"You staying here all night?" Murphy asked when they finally fell silent.

"Yeah, I want to be here when Bodie wakes up." Doyle's thoughts returned to his friend. "Be best if he sees a friendly face."

"Night then, see you at HQ." Murphy raised one hand in a wave.

"You did well Murphy," Doyle said as an afterthought. "Cowley's not one to hand out the praise but you did a good job. I'll work with you again anytime."

Murphy paused, turned, "Thanks Doyle," he said glancing at the drawn curtains. "It's a shame you already have a partner."

When Murphy had left, Doyle took his chair into the cubicle and set it down beside Bodie's bed. His partner was sleeping, but his forehead was wrinkled in a frown and his mouth drawn tight in a grimace. His lips moved, eyes flickered, caught in an uneasy dream.

"Bodie," Doyle whispered, lips close to his friend's ear. "Shhh, it's all right." He reached out to run one hand across the short dark hair, hoping to chase away whatever demons plagued Bodie.

"Doyle?"

"Yeah, just me."

"You come to take me home now?"

Doyle sighed. "Can't mate, it's 3.00am. Have to wait until morning."

Bodie raised a hand to rub at the bandage on his head. "Sorry about what happened."

"It's all right. We'll talk about it tomorrow."

"Yeah, tomorrow," Bodie said as he closed his eyes and went back to sleep.

 

Part: 22

The morning brought little opportunity for talking as Doyle discovered that Bodie had no clothes to wear home. The black trousers that he had worn to the hospital had somehow been misplaced and Doyle was sent to retrieve a new outfit from Bodie's flat.

By the time he returned Bodie was in silent sulk and remained that way until they reached his home.

"You hungry?" Doyle asked when Bodie was finally deposited on the couch. "Did they feed you?"

"No they didn't. No one would come near me!" Bodie growled. "Reckoned it wasn't safe."

Doyle set about making tea and toast, knowing now was as good a moment as any ask Bodie about his past.

"Well, you only have yourself to blame for that, mate. You carried on like a mad man when the doctor went in."

Bodie was silent. Doyle let him stew.

He carried the tea and toast in and set it on the coffee table, taking a seat on the couch next to Bodie.

"You want to tell me about what happened." Doyle said softly. "Before."

"Before?" Bodie took a bite of toast. "Before when? What are you talking about?"

"My guess would be in Africa somewhere. Something happened, the doctor told Cowley."

Doyle watched as the blood drained from Bodie's face.

"Don't know what you're talking about." Bodie grabbed the tea cup in both hands and took a sip.

"Yes you do, Bodie," Doyle continued, hating having to do this, but knowing it was the only way. "And Cowley knows now too. He told me to talk to you and find out what happened."

"What, you want details?" Bodie shouted, tea cup slopping everywhere as he slammed it down. "Because I didn't keep count of how many there were or how many times they did it."

"Don't need specifics, just where and when. Cowley's orders." Doyle tried to keep his voice low and calm, businesslike. They'd get nowhere if they both became upset.

"Oh that's bloody choice, that is." Bodie said, jumping up. "Cowley's bloody orders. Who does he think he is?" He strode back and forth across the room, a caged animal preparing to fight.

"Look, you either tell me or Cowley'll send you to Ross. The choice is yours, Bodie."

Bodie stared at the floor in silence. Doyle waited.

After a long few minutes Bodie came back to the couch and sat down. "It happened in some out of the way little prison in the Congo," he began, in a voice so soft that Doyle had to lean in to catch the words. "I was arrested on gun running charges. It was the guards, three or four of them. They thought it quite a novelty to have a white prisoner in their keeping. Thought they'd have a bit of fun with me, as they put it. I wasn't in very good shape when they finished. They got worried when they realised I was hurt. Didn't want a white man dying in their lock up so they took me to what passed as a hospital, the local clinic or something. As soon as I could walk I got away. Worked my way back to England after that. I'd had enough of bloody Africa"

"Oh Bodie…."

"It was a long time ago, Doyle. In the past. Don't start with the tea and sympathy." Bodie reached for his cup, but his hand stopped in mid air as he realised the irony of his words. He grabbed a piece of toast instead.

Doyle took a deep breath and pressed on. He'd got Cowley his information, now he had his own questions that needed answering. "That was the last time, wasn't it? You hadn't been with another man since then."

"I took up with a fellow in Jordan for a while. We messed around a bit but nothing heavy." Bodie finally looked at Doyle, eyes unreadable. "I didn't let him fuck me if that's what you mean. You were the first to do that."

"Christ Bodie." Doyle closed his eyes and looked away. "You should have said something."

"Oh sure, you never would have done it if you had known, would you?"

"Probably not," Doyle replied looking back. "But if I had known I would have been a damned sight more careful. I'm sorry Bodie."

"Nothing to be sorry for, mate. You were careful. Besides," Bodie gave a sad smile. "I was glad it was you because… I trusted you."

"But I could have made it better for you."

"Yeah?" Bodie snorted. "What would you have done differently?" There was an angry challenge in Bodie's voice. "Would you have let me kiss you?"

Doyle looked away again. "I told you Bodie, I'm not queer."

"So you keep saying. Well neither am I, Doyle. That's not the way I …," Bodie struggled to find the right word, "Define myself. I've been a sailor and a mercenary and a soldier and a civil servant. I'm a lover and a killer but none of those things, on their own, defines me, Ray. I'm Bodie, just Bodie."

From 'just Bodie' that was quite a speech. Doyle smiled. "Oh and I suppose I'm 'just Doyle'?"

"You'll never be 'just Doyle' to me, sunshine." The truth of it was there in Bodie's blue eyes, the love, the longing.

"That's why you volunteered for the op, isn't it?" Doyle asked, knowing he already had the answer.

Bodie looked away. "Yeah, Cowley would have talked you round or threatened enough that you backed down. I couldn't let you do something like that, couldn't stand the thought of some bastard getting his dirty hands on you when you didn't want it. You mean too much to me, Ray."

"So you did it instead?" Doyle whispered. Bodie nodded and hung his head.

"Bodie, look at me." The dark head rose slowly, blue eyes uncertain.

Doyle leaned forward and brushed his lips across Bodie's, an innocent kiss, uncertain, undemanding. He sat back, waiting.

Bodie blinked in surprise. "What's all this then?" he asked shyly. "Thought you said you weren't queer?"

"I'm not," Doyle replied, "But I think I got a taste for it."

 

Epilogue: Two weeks later…..

 

"Oh Jesus Christ, Bodie, will you just…" Doyle gasped as Bodie took him deeper into his throat. Bodie liked to string him along like this, waiting until he was on the point of begging before doing that little thing with his fingers that sent Doyle to heaven and back.

Eyes screw shut, hands tightly gripping the sheets, Raymond Doyle gave himself up to pure sensation, curling inward on one brilliant flashpoint of pleasure before exploding outward, flying into a million pieces to lie scattered on the bed, exhausted.

Bodie had a right to be smug, but at the moment he sounded more frustrated. "Bloody hell Ray, you do this every time," he complained as he shuffled up beside Doyle and grabbed his hand, dragging it down to his own waiting erection. It was already coated in Vaseline, Doyle noted absently, as his partner wrapped his hand around Doyle's and set up a furious pace, whilst muttering "Lazy sod. Got to do all the bloody work meself," under his breath.

Doyle lay back, eyes closed, content to let Bodie steer, while he listened to the little sounds that were already becoming familiar. The hard breathing, the small gasps that caught in Bodie's throat and that tiny little whine that sometimes escaped at the end of a sigh. Bodie picked up speed, almost frenzied now, much faster than Doyle would ever find enjoyable, but that was Bodie. There was desperation in his breathing, a struggle to reach fulfilment and Doyle allowed himself his own moment of smug satisfaction before opening his eyes and whispering, "You want to fuck me Bodie?"

Bodie faltered, froze, choked and came all over their joined hands. Doyle resisted the temptation to grin.

He'd learnt a few tricks of his own since they'd become lovers and those words sent Bodie over the edge every time. Not that they'd got around to actually fucking yet, but they would. There was no doubting that Bodie wanted to if his reactions to the offer were any indication. Doyle didn't find the thought daunting either, which was quite a revelation in itself. But he let Bodie set the pace in their newfound relationship, taking it slow and easy. Doyle wondered if it was for his benefit or Bodie's. Either way, he didn't mind. It was good and it would only get better.

Bodie flopped down beside him, one arm casually thrown across Doyle's chest. It was almost a cuddle, although Bodie would never admit to that. The first time Bodie had wriggled close and pulled the covers up over them, he'd explained it away by saying "Wet spot." Doyle didn't mind. He'd let his hand rest on Bodie's forearm where it almost embraced him, and drifted off to sleep, content.

They always ended up like this now, side by side, sated and drowsy. There was a comfort in it, knowing there'd be someone there waiting in the morning when you awoke. But it was more than that. It said something about who and what they were and where they were going. Together. Doyle didn't find it queer at all.

And as Doyle closed his eyes again he felt Bodie turn his head, warm breath tickling his neck, lips hovering against his ear.

"Love you Ray," Bodie whispered.

In the darkness Doyle found Bodie's hand and squeezed, "Love you too Bodie."

 

The End

27th March 2009


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